


Charity Case

by the_widow_twankey



Category: Longmire (TV)
Genre: Comfort Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hopeful Ending, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-11 22:26:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7072978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_widow_twankey/pseuds/the_widow_twankey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Henry doesn't want <strike>refuses</strike> to be a charity case.</p><p>Walt just wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Charity Case

**Author's Note:**

> Phew, it's done! These two just do things to me in terms of a ship. Their relationship is so deep and multifaceted.
> 
> This takes place some time after the episode where Henry says he's not a 'charity case'. The line inspired this fic and its title. I can't remember which episode it is. If you know, let me know in the comments.
> 
> I'm sure I botched their characters because they most likely wouldn't do this but I tried to stay as believable as possible.

Henry hasn’t given him a call like this in a while so when he picked up the phone only to hear a moment of silence and “come over” and a click his eyes lifted in surprise and his heart beat just a bit faster. It was about 11:30 and his thoughts of turning in were gone. Still dressed, he just put on his coat and hat and headed out to his car.

On the ride there his stomach filled with an unusual mixture of excitement and concern. A call such as this from Henry meant that Walt was going to get to indulge in something he rarely got. It also meant that Henry felt off and was using him as a distraction or an anchor. He should have expected this what with Henry’s probation and everything going on.

He pulled up to the Red Pony and was knocking on Henry’s door in no time. It opened to Henry in nothing but a pair of boxer shorts, an unreadable expression, and that tracking anklet. Walt drank in the sight despite the connotations of this visit because, after all, he was still human. Henry didn’t let him stare for long for he soon grabbed the front of Walt's shirt and pulled him into a kiss; closing the door in the process.

Walt fumbled a little but soon settled his hands on the trim waist before him and returned the kiss with fervor. Henry tasted like bourbon but he wasn’t drunk.

Even though tongues were tracing teeth and darker hands were unbuckling his belt Walt could still feel the underlying tension in his friend’s body; his muscles pulled taut like a cornered animal. Hoping to instill some calm in him Walt pressed him to the worn wall and brought a weathered hand up to grasp Henry’s chin. That seemed to distract him, all of a sudden they were younger and only doing this to assuage mutual lust. There was no dead Martha, no Malachi, no bribed meth heads. Just a boy of few words and a boy from the rez.

The kiss didn’t last long for Henry soon pushed Walt toward the bed in the corner and was about to climbed astride him but Walt stopped him. This may be some odd pity fuck but they were going to do this naked at least, dammit. Being the least dressed of the two it took no time for Henry to undress and impatiently wait for Walt to do the same.

Soon skin met skin and some of the tension in the room seemed to dissipate, if only a little. Walt allowed his hand to traverse a dark back while teeth worried the skin of his neck. He had always felt that even though they were both up there in age Henry's skin seem tighter and less blemished than his own. It was something that he could be semi envious of but, at times like this, he cared more that he was getting to touch it rather than it being the reality of his own skin.

Henry sat up and seemed satisfied with the mark he’d left, and braced himself on Walt’s chest with one hand while the other enclosed both of their lengths. Walt hissed and grabbed a surprisingly pert ass. He could feel rather than see the smirk on his friend’s face; no matter the age or time Henry always relished overwhelming Walt. And of course, Walt is secretly a sucker for it. They were already leaking on Henry working fingers.

“On the table.”

At first, Walt didn’t understand what was said, Henry hasn’t said anything all night but looking upon the table in question he saw the container of lube and understood. Henry went to take the bottle away but the other man declined, instead, he popped the cap and covered his own fingers before reaching behind the man on top of him. Henry obliged him by leaning forward and bracing himself causing both of their cocks to line up.

Preparing Henry became more about looking at the other man’s face. He became enraptured by Henry closed eyes and breathy sounds as the other man rocked to press against his finger which, in turn, rubbed their cocks together with the most delicious friction. It was in this moment Walt could pretend that this wasn’t a rarity, that this wasn't something that both of them were afraid of making official for whatever reasons they felt were important enough.

Apparently Henry wasn’t going to be much for thorough tonight for he pulled Walt’s hand away and grabbed the lube to get the other man slick. In little to no time, Walt felt tight heat surround him making him squeeze the hips above him in a way that would most likely cause bruises, and that idea just made him squeeze harder. Henry was a bit louder now, lips parted to release soft sighs and little sounds as he braced himself on the other man’s chest and worked his hips in a way that Walt was going to be thinking about for months.

After going at this pace for a couple of minutes Walt had an urge and since he knew he wouldn’t likely get this chance again anytime soon he went through with it. With a strength that was slowed with age, he turned them over and pressed Henry into the mattress. At this turn of events, Henry’s face looked indignant and Walt could see in his eyes that he just might push him off or, in the best case scenario, turn them back over and continue. But he didn’t want either of those things, he just wanted Henry to just let him take care of him without it being the last and most desperate option. He didn’t ask Henry to send Hector after Martha’s killer, he didn’t ask him to take the fall, why couldn’t he just accept help without being so humble. That was his job.

In a last ditch effort to turn the tide, he pressed a desperate kiss to his friend lips unlike their kisses before. This was talking without words and Walt hoped that 39 years was enough for Henry to understand what was being said. They parted but their foreheads still touched; their breath mingled together.

“Let me.” Walt said and he could see in his eyes that, maybe, Henry understood.

And then it was perfect. Even the outline of the anklet pressed against Walt’s middle as his friend held him between his knees so tight couldn’t ruin it. His back was probably going to betray him in the morning but right now he was "in the moment" so he obeyed the younger man within him and pulled Henry’s hips onto his knees which gave him a deeper angle that brought amazing results to the both of them.

Determined to give Henry his end first Walt wrapped a still slick hand around his friend and pumped in time to his thrusts. Henry’s face was that odd calm mask of pleasure he tended to have but the fingers scrambling across and squeezing Walt’s thighs underneath him told a different story. It didn’t take long for Walt to feel wetness spill over his working hand and as soon as he felt it he stopped and moved to pulled out; intent on finishing with his hand. But a hand pulled him back and it was Henry’s turn to speak without words.

Walt gave an inquiring look just to make sure that he was reading the situation correctly but he felt strong legs wrapped tighter around him and that gave him his answer. He leaned forward to brace himself, bracketing his friend as if he were shielding him from the world and resumed the thorough pace from before. Arms embraced Walt and a face burrowed into his neck so that those small sounds were right in his ear. And maybe they were a little louder now, more freely given.

It didn’t take long, he was close anyway. He warned Henry of this, of the impending mess but he just felt the other man just shake his head hold him tighter. Walt took it for the answer it was and let go. It was a feeling so good and familiar, the wetness and heat of it all, he didn’t realize how much he’d missed it until now. He even pressed in while he was still softening just to revel in it causing Henry to give a soft groan. They couldn’t stay like this forever, though, Henry needed cleaning and care so he got up, much to the displeasure of his already protesting knees, to retrieve a wet washcloth.

Something was different now.

After Henry let him clean him up with little to no complaint he contemplated putting on his clothes and leaving as per the usual etiquette of these meetings but he took a chance and slipped under the covers alongside him. Soon a hesitant hand found itself in sandy hair and there were lips against his in a kiss that lasted no longer than the silence between two heartbeats but its intensity was crystal clear. They fell asleep wrapped in each other, maybe tomorrow will be free of their doubts and excuses.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Feel free to leave a comment.


End file.
